Children of Fate
by foggraven
Summary: Sora lies in slumber never to wake, while the Organization moves in the shadows, and darkness looms on the horizon. Dark days are ahead. To wield a Keyblade is to court sorrow and suffer tragedy. Something Xion knows only too well.
1. Chapter 1 - Shattered Mirror

**An: New story I hope you like it. Something I feel I should mention off the bat is the Harry Potter timeline up to the time of the story is pretty much the same but the Kh side of things is going to be fairly au. There's some more details down the bottom.**

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Clutching her side she summoned a Dark Corridor using the last of her strength before stumbling desperately through it.

Her sticky fingers could feel the blood pouring from the wound in her side even through her glove.

The wound was bad, she wouldn't be able to stand much longer. She'd exhausted her Magic in their battle, so she couldn't heal herself, and even if she could the wound was severe enough that it would have drained her almost completely.

She was lucky she had managed to partially block the blow that had caused it. Anymore and she would have been dead, or whatever passed for dead for someone like her.

In any case she was fading fast, even she had her limits, and she had exceeded them.

When she emerged her surroundings were dark.

Vision blurring she collapsed to one knee before trying to push herself to her feet and falling to the ground.

Unable to gather the strength to move she simply lay there and waited for her wounds to finish her. She had one final thought before her world faded to darkness, _'Roxas, Axel... sorry...'_

* * *

Harry wasn't sure whether he liked Slughorn or not. He supposed he had been pleasant in his way, but he had also seemed vain and, whatever he said to the contrary, much too surprised that a Muggle-born should make a good witch.

Still he supposed _anything_ was better than Umbridge.

With any luck he'd still want to teach come September. Looking at the recent track record of Hogwarts professors he couldn't really blame the bloke if he ended up changing his mind.

Just as he was wandering if they had walked far enough Dumbledore stopped walking so abruptly Harry almost walked into him, "Wand out Harry."

At his words Harry's blood ran cold, this time he had the distinct feeling that whatever they found wasn't going to be pleasant.

Glancing around uneasily he drew his wand as they continued on, this time moving far more cautiously, the smell of blood was thick in the air. A part of him whispered that they might have stumbled on a muggle murder or something similar, he felt sick when he found himself almost hoping for it... the alternative... well, he really hoped this was going to be another false alarm.

Wand clutched firmly in his hand he tried to ignore the thickening smell of blood in the air as they closed in on its source, Dumbledore displaying a surprising spryness for his age as he all but sprinted down one of the alleys to where a figure lay slumped on the ground.

Harry felt a horrible sinking feeling when he realised the figure wasn't moving.

Drawing closer it became apparent this was the source of the blood. It was everywhere, great gallons of it soaking into the ground in great puddles.

Coming closer he examined the prone figure. It was a girl, she looked young, maybe about his age, it was hard to tell, and she didn't look like she was in very good shape.

Dumbledore knelt quickly, gently turning her onto back and Harry had to stifle the urge to gag at the sight of the gaping hole in her side she was rapidly bleeding out from.

"Harry!" Dumbledore's sharp call snapped him from his shocked state and he rushed to help however he could as the old warlock listed off a list of commands.

By the time they arrived at St Mungo's Dumbledore had managed to stem the bleeding but he seemed unable to stop it completely or heal the wound from the blow that had torn through her coat and into the tissue of the girl below.

As Harry numbly watched on as Healers worked frantically over the still form of the girl they'd found he thought to himself that it was just as bad as it had looked.

He watched as they divested her of her robes or possibly long coat –it was hard to tell and the garments condition didn't help, something that in normal circumstances would have had him blushing but now left him feeling ill as the extent of her wounds was revealed.

Besides him Dumbledore stood expression stony the twinkle gone from his eyes. He'd asked if Harry had wanted to leave but he'd insisted; he had to stay.

Merlin let her be alright. He couldn't do this again, not after Sirius, not after Cedric. Glancing down he gazed unseeingly at the blood staining his hands from where he'd held onto her.

Her body had been soaked in the blood from her wounds, absolutely covered in it. Several hastily cast spells later and it was still all pervading, soaking the black hair that framed her face and staining her skin red.

It was a miracle the healers said, that she hadn't given out.

They'd left the simple undergarments she'd been wearing on though they too were soaked with blood, and Harry was grateful that she'd been afforded that small kindness at least.

They'd had to remove most of the blood that had coated her to get at her injuries, and to make sure it wasn't hiding others, but even now her skin was covered in gore.

Her legs and arms had escaped the worst of it, relatively unharmed but for deep bruises and shallow cuts and scrapes; though later examination had found several of her fingers to be broken as a well her left leg and arm.

Darkly he mused that it said a lot about a person's condition when broken bones were considered the _'best of it_.'

The rest of her was a mess, her left lung was punctured; the cause a broken rib, one of several. Accompanying it several were fractured, they were though hardly the worst to be found.

She'd taken a hard blow to the head that had fractured her skull, if only minutely, and one of her eyes had been nearly cut out if the long gash slashed down her face was anything to go by.

Several of her organs had been badly damaged, likely as a result of blunt force trauma for there seemed to be no piercing, though the healers had admitted they might have missed something for it was hard to tell, and even as she'd bleed all over the floor more still flowed from the wounds inside they could not see that were only now being discovered.

The real problem though had been the hole in her side, it was huge and so far they had been unable even to stop the blood pouring from it fully.

Whatever had inflicted it there had been magic involved, though of what kind they could not say.

It was Harry thought, a very grim occasion.

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 **An: So new story, this is going to follow mostly the sunset trio - mainly Xion. On the Harry Potter side of things it'll probably be mostly business as usually character wise in terms of which characters we'll be following.**

 **Some thing I want to clear up now is that the Kh side of things story wise is going to be heavily Au, and Sora isn't going to be showing up anytime soon in all likelihood. One of the main things I'm changing is the length of time the events of the games play out. I've added roughly a year to both the kh1 and 358/2 days timelines respectively.**


	2. Chapter 2 - Fated Awakening

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It was a very tired Harry that arrived at the Burrow the following morning.

After being rushed inside by a distraught Mrs Weasley he was promptly sat down at the table and a bowl of soup placed before him.

He looked Gaunt, pale and drawn like he'd seen someone die, and Hermione was reminded uncomfortably of Sirius and of how he had looked in the days following his Godfather's death.

After he had eaten he recounted the night's events and told them about the girl they had found.

From what he had said it had sounded very serious.

What had she been doing there though, from what Harry had described they had found her lying there on the ground with every indication that she had been bleeding out for some time.

Did it have anything to do with Voldemort, her features were definitely foreign and carried a hint of something oriental with them, was she even from this country?

She was definitely a witch though; Harry had told her they'd been able to confirm that much, though she had been clearly suffering from magical exhaustion as well as a half dozen other life threatening injuries. Maybe she was visiting, or on holiday?

Somehow she found that unlikely, with Voldemort's return publicly declared to the world and a civil war brewing in magical Britain no one would be likely to be visiting anytime soon unless they absolutely had to.

So Voldemort then, but leaving a victim lying in a pool of their own blood but still alive didn't seem like the sort of thing one of his followers would do, no they would have made sure she was dead, and besides no Dark Mark had been left behind.

So it couldn't be him... could it?

Still it was all very interesting, and very serious. Whatever had happened to the poor girl must have been very bad.

* * *

St. Mungo's was as Hermione remembered it, green robed healers wandering the halls and tending to the injured as they made their way down its halls.

Grimly she noted that this time it looked like most had been attacked and instead of sporting strange disfigurements their injuries bore the mark of violence, no doubt at the hands of Voldemort's supporters.

They'd insisted on coming with Harry, curiosity and wariness preventing them from letting him go alone.

Having seen what Sirius's death had done to him Hermione really didn't want to be leaving him alone right now when there was a chance he'd be witnessing another one, even if this time it was a stranger's.

Loathe as she was to leave him alone there was also a very large part of her that was curious to see the girl he'd found as well.

Years of unravelling mysteries and getting caught up in adventures with Harry and Ron had made her reticent to give up on a mystery when one was shoved under her nose.

Mystery or not though no amount of preparation could have prepared her for the sight that greeted them when they entered the room of Jane Doe 23.

When they arrived it was to be greeted by a harried looking healer who hurriedly ushered them inside where they were met by a tired looking Dumbledore who looked up at their entrance having evidently only arrived just a moment before them if the small bouquet of flowers he was placing was anything to go by.

The aged headmaster looked... old, older than usual, and Hermione noticed the blackened hand hanging at his side before her eyes were drawn to the sight of girl lying in the bed behind him.

Room 24D in the Emergency Care Ward was a grim place.

Almost every available space was crammed with strange machines and medical equipment that Hermione hardly recognized. Empty potion vials and long sheets of scribble filed parchment filled with complicated diagrams and notes littered almost every empty surface.

As they walked through the open door though all of it was peripheral to the large gurney like bed that lay at the centre.

Hermione's first urge was to vomit. The smell of caked blood and other unnatural bodily excretions hit them like a wave as they entered and immediately Hermione knew why Harry had been so desperate to visit at the soonest possible moment.

Staring at the sight of the broken body of the girl lying in front of her Hermione found her hand flying to her mouth as a startled gasp escaped her. Nauseous she had to bite back the bile that caught at the back of her throat.

Even from the doorway she could see the gaping wounds that bit into the girl's chest and side.

The rest of her fared little better and Hermione found herself horrified to see that some of her wounds were still actively bleeding even now.

"Ah Healer Smith, unfortunately I have not been able to find time to visit since I departed with young Harry last night, how is she doing?"

Hermione managed to tear her eyes away from the sight of the broken body before her as Dumbledore turned his attention to the healer who had entered after them. He looked like he was in sore need of sleep but he answered readily enough.

"Well she's alive so I suppose that's something." The tired looking man ran a hand wearily through his hair as he turned his gaze to the girl lying before them.

"Her wounds appear to be healing well, at least the ones that we've been able to get to and some of the smaller ones. We didn't notice it a first since we were too busy trying to get her stabilized but the bruising had begun to retreat noticeably and some of the minor fractures were beginning to heal."

As he spoke he gestured to a large section of discoloured skin that stretched over most of her uninjured side that was even now visibly retreating before their eyes. It was almost imperceptible to the naked eye but it was there, _'definitely not natural.'_

"Here you see." The aged headmaster moved to follow the healer's pointing finger, peering closer to examine the discolouration over the rims of his half-moon spectacles.

"I assume this is not the result of any spells or potions you might have administered."

The healer shook his head running his hand through his hair again. "No but whatever it is it's all that's keeping her alive, we've been able to treat some of her wounds, the minor ones, but even that has proved challenging."

He swept his hands towards the collection of shallow scrapes and cuts that littered the girl's body.

"Her body is healing, what little we can treat is already healing without our aid. It extends far further than that though; the regeneration is extraordinary, broken bones, torn tissue. The organ ruptures seem to be healing too, given the severity though we've been doing what we can to manage the fallout in the meantime."

"Complexity and severity seems to be a factor when it comes to speed but, well... the amount of blood she lost... no human can survive that."

Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought as he contemplated the healer's words. " I don't suppose you have any idea's what's causing it?"

Healer Smith gave half-hearted shake of his head. Looking at him Hermione could almost visibly see the tiredness weighing down on his body like a shroud; no doubt he'd been up most of the night fighting just to keep her alive.

"We've been looking into it but we haven't got a clue, it might be the girl, or it might be some kind of spell or potion that was applied before we got to her, it's beyond anything we have the capability for but it's not impossible someone somewhere came up with something that could do it."

He gave a sigh before moving around to the other side of her bed directing their attention to the gaping hole that everyone had been studiously trying to avert their eyes from since entering the room.

"While her other injuries would have been almost certainly fatal within at most a few hours in any other person even with immediate treatment her abnormal healing would have kept her alive if in a very fragile state for several days at least, but she would have been almost certain to make a recovery if what we're seeing now stays true."

Tiredly he rubbed his face as he continued. "Now this though, if it was anyone else they would have died almost immediately if not instantaneously. Given what we've seen her healing should have kicked in and it should have started to seal itself."

"Obviously it hasn't, given the severity of the wound at first we thought that it had simply exceeded the reach of whatever's causing the accelerated healing's abilities."

Dumbledore gave a nod of consideration. "Not an unreasonable assumption I should think."

"Just so," Healer Smith gave his own nod in agreement, "the truth though is something's stoping it."

"A curse?"

"Not a curse per se, at least not anything we recognize but the effects are similar, I'll be blunt to be honest we don't have a clue, she's was in a very intense fight but who or what she was fighting that could have left wounds like these is something I don't know."

"You probably can't tell from where you're standing but up close the wounds absolutely reeks of darkness the intensity is unreal, Dumbledore this is far more... concentrated for lack of a better word, than any dark spell I've ever seen, Merlin knows I've treated enough of them lately, but whatever he's become it wasn't You-Know-Who who did this."

Now that was a disconcerting thought. Hermione hadn't really thought it likely in the first place, but if Voldemort didn't have anything to do with it... well the last thing any of them needed right now was another dark wizard or creature running around unchecked.

Dumbledore didn't look happy about the idea either, things were bad enough as it was and Hermione didn't think the man would be able to shoulder the burden of much more.

He was already busy with running Hogwarts and dealing with the Ministry and Order as well as his recent reinstatements to the Wizengamot, another problem was the last thing he should be dealing with.

There was also she thought, sneaking a glance at the blackened appendage, the matter of his hand.

"I see, I don't suppose you have any idea as to what kind of weapon or spell might have caused the damage?"

"That at least I can offer some light on but it isn't much. If there were spells involved which certainly seems likely their effects had either worn off by the time you got to her or more likely they didn't try for anything exotic and focused on straight forward damage rather than transfiguring hands into flippers or some such."

Remembering her own ill fated duel with Millicent Bulstrode in second year Hermione found that rather less implausible than someone who hadn't encountered the rather simplistic mindset that some of the duller Slytherins held.

Oblivious to her thoughts Healer Smith continued with his explanation of just what seemed to have happened.

"I think it's likely that at least a decent portion of her injuries were spell inflicted given the amount of magic residual that was sticking to her when she was brought in, the rest though..." here he gave a sigh, "I don't know exactly what it was but I think it's fairly safe to say it was likely some kind of enchanted weapon or artefact."

He looked down at the girl a pained expression on his face and it was clear from his expression that he wasn't used to such uncertainty.

Quietly Dumbledore thanked him for his efforts to which he nodded before turning back to his patient expression inscrutable.

Harry for his part didn't seem like he'd be moving anytime soon. He'd been quite throughout Dumbledore and Healer Smith's convocation but Hermione knew he'd only be more determined to stay now that it was obvious the mystery girl wouldn't be up and walking anytime soon, magic could work miracles but this time it seemed to have reached its limit.

Glancing at the edges of the large hole in the girl's side which she could notice imperceptibly bubbling she couldn't find it within herself to fault him. Silently she slipped her hand into his and gave it a brief squeeze before withdrawing it.

* * *

When the coughing started it was almost noon.

Startled by the sudden sound Hermione found her eyes blinking awake from where she lay slumped in a chair. Hospitals weren't the most comfortable of places to fall asleep but she'd managed.

Blearily she glanced around, beside her Harry had jerked to his feet and was now hovering uncertainty over the girl's bed.

Following his gaze she started from her seat glancing around for a healer and finding none began fumbling for the button to call for help as the girl's body jerked spasmodically.

What was she supposed to do she'd never been in a situation like this? Frantically she tried to recall anything that might help.

Before she could do anything though movement from the bed halted her burgeoning panic attack, the girl's body shuddered unnaturally, spasming, and jerking upwards as if pulled by hidden strings.

Letting out a panicked shriek she began frantically waved her hands in front of her in indecision just as the Healers burst through the door.

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	3. Chapter 3 - Dive into the Heart

**An: A little bit shorter than last time, sorry for the wait.**

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She was sinking.

She could feel the water's pressure all around her, deep below her a light radiated, a dim glow to light up the dark.

Bubbles trailed in her wake as she sunk endlessly into the black. The depths lit only by that faint glow and the silence seemed to stretch forever.

Slowly, slowly, she felt her body right itself as she came to rest on the stained glass window below, feet finding the luminous surface as she landed upon the circular platform.

The glass face depicted a boy and a girl locked in sleep she dimly recognized as her ' _mother_ ' and ' _father_ ,' smaller portraits detailing her and her ' _sister_ ' and ' _brother_.'

Faintly conscious of her movements she strode forward as darkness curled itself around her.

The manifestation of the darkness afflicting her that was even now besieging her body stopping it from healing seemed to grow ever larger, tendrils of nothingness finding their way into the dark as it meshed with her own power.

The Key answering her unconsciously she summoned the light that was hers to call upon, flaring it into the dark.

Deep within Xion's heart battle was joined.

* * *

There were several foreign presences surrounding her when she woke.

Expanding her senses to take in the surrounding area, she focused on blocking out the return of all feeling. It was a temporary measure at best but she needed to _think._

From what she could remember she was likely to be in agonizing pain she was awake, therefore the separation of body and mind was paramount.

She could sense several floors which were heavily occupied and a thick magical atmosphere which tasted of healing.

A hospital then, good it looked like this world would have hot showers and other more advanced facilities.

Turning her senses inwards she began cataloguing her more immediate surroundings trying to asses the situation she was in.

Not restrained, good she could escape if she had to. She wouldn't put it past the Organization or any of the other groups looking for her to even now be tracking her location. DiZ and Maleficent would both no doubt like to get their hands on her, even if the Organization was far more likely to find her.

She would just have to hope they didn't come looking here yet, in her current state she wouldn't be capable of fighting.

Grimly she returned to assessing her situation.

Her clothes had been removed but they'd left the strip of cloth that covered her chest and her undershorts, and the slight constricting feeling coming from her arms and legs told her they'd bandaged several of her wounds.

The gaping hole in her side was still oozing but that could be treated, now that she was awake she would survive, if she could remain hidden. Already she could feel bones knitting together and damaged organs regrowing.

The basic medical attention administered was appreciated but not needed, she'd be able to outstrip what little had been done soon enough.

She doubted she'd be lucky enough to have a highly advanced healer, the kind most worlds lacked, available anytime soon, or that she'd landed on a highly enough advanced world that they'd be able to heal her; if she had they would have surely already done it by now.

So where did that leave her?

Lying on a gurney in some kind of hospital on a world she didn't know, healing but still in a very venerable position, and with the possibility of enemies closing in on her location or otherwise stumbling across her position.

Too many variables, it was risky but she didn't have much of a choice, she would have to move. The risk of staying here was too great and the information needed to reassess her situation would take too long to gather if her position had already been compromised.

She was too injured to move herself and Nobodies could be tracked. She didn't have personal forces the way other members had, and while she could command Dusks, using them to move her would be too risky they wouldn't be strong enough to hold off enemy attacks.

The Samurai the only ones that could be said to belong to her were only nominally hers, ultimately they still answered to their master, using them to move her would pose the same risks and they would draw even more attention.

Pointless then, immediately her mind went through a hundred other options, discounting them. ' _No choice.'_

Quickly her mind calculated just how much time she would have if she sent a message out, there was a small amount of risk but it was doable, chances of interception were low.

At the very worst she would attempt to get off world using as many Nobodies as she could summon to her location if her position was found.

But first, time to open her eyes.

* * *

If there was one thing Harry could say about his frankly ridiculous pain tolerance which he'd gained from years of suffering through rigorous Quidditch practices under Wood, and his many run-ins with Voldemort and his followers, it was that while impressive even he would have been hard pressed to keep from making the terrible screams that the girl was currently emitting if he had found himself in her place, if he hadn't by some miracle already lapsed into shock and passed out.

It was he thought the sound of someone on fire. Vividly his mind turned to the memory of his temporary possession by Voldemort. Was this how he had sounded?

The Healers were trying to hold her down but she was thrashing and screaming so hard they couldn't hold her, and they couldn't use magic for fear of exacerbating her wounds.

Beside him Dumbledore looked pained. For someone so used to help others with their skill at magic it must have been excruciating to be forced to watch and be helpless to aid someone who was so clearly in pain.

Watching helplessly he could only clench his fist in aguish as her back began to arch unnaturally and her screams turned to a high pitched keening.

Was this what the first war had been like, standing and watching helpless to help the wounded, listening to their screams over the sound of the Healers frantic yelling?

The girl's spasms were growing even more frantic as they tried to hold her down and one of her jerking legs connected with the Healer to her right sending him into the wall wheezing and clutching his chest.

The other yelled to him in concern while trying to keep the girl from flailing and he gave a nod before jumping forward and trying to pin her wildly jerking limb down before she knocked his arm away sending it to the side and there was a short explosion of some sort from her wrist that sounded with a bright bang like a lightbulb exploding before her body slumped and her teeth clenched shut in an expression of agony as her eyes shot open.

There was a shocking quality to them, he'd been expecting brown or black but not the vivid unnatural blue that stared out from their bruised sockets almost as bright as the magical one that frantically darted about in Moody's.

With a final pained snarl she loosened her clenched jaw panting as she visibly sagged against the headboard that was hastily propped up.

The two Healers gave sighs of relief, for a moment one of them slumping up against the wall and closing his eyes for a short few seconds before they began to rush around snapping off diagnostics and reading charts.

It was strange how silent it seemed despite all the noise as she took them in despite all the noise they were making and the loud whistles and beeps from the franticly contraptions monitoring the room, her eyes focusing intensely as she observed them, rapidly flicking from one spot to another.

There was an almost unnatural awareness there that didn't seem to belong to someone who had just minutes ago been under, like a wolf starved and desperate sizing up potential threats that might be predator or prey after being backed into corner.

After a minute her examination halted and she shifted to taking in the room before she began to run her gaze over her body and her eyes widened slightly.

Harry would have been surprised too if he had woken up to find himself still alive after suffering her wounds.

It was obvious she was still very much in pain but she seemed to have clamped down on it firmly to stop it from showing and he had to admire her resilience.

Out of all of them it was the girl who broke the silence with a wet coughing that saw her bent double and fresh blood leaking from her mouth.

"Where... am I?"

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 **An:** **Xion has her own heart, it's not 'whole' and it's not perfect - and a lot of that is probably to do with her strange existence which really is quite unique, she's still a Nobody in some manner. I guess she's kind of like Roxas in a sort of 'half' state.**

 **I think that Replica's qualify as being like the** **Nobody version of E** **mblem Heartless , artificially created versions that don't exist in nature since they're basically hollow shell's with memories of there 'others' which is by definition what a nobody is.**


	4. Chapter 4 - Destiny's Mirror

**An: I know I haven't updated in ages but the last month hasn't been such a good one for me. I'll try my best to make sure I at least get an update up for my stuff roughly once a month at least but my writing's been suffering a bit of a slump lately and my health hasn't been too good.**

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"Where... am I?"

The words were halting and hoarse.

It was Healer Smith who stepped forward to answer the now conscious girl as he held a light to her eyes before waving his wand over her.

"You're at St Mungo's, can you tell us what happened?"

The girl brought a hand to her side and let out a pained gasp as her hand brushed the sluggishly bleeding wound. She shook her head, "I'm sorry I don't know where that is."

The Healer paused in his examination, it seemed like Hermione's suspicions about her being a foreigner might had been right. Harry hadn't really thought it was likely that the case might have been much else. She clearly wasn't a local.

It wasn't like there were many witches with such clear Asian ancestry within the Isles. Out of the student body at Hogwarts the only ones Harry could think of were Sue Li and Cho Chang, and the girl in the bed was most definitely neither of them.

There was also the fact that she hadn't shown up on any of the Ministry's ever growing list of people who were missing or St Mungo's medical records.

Scrutinizing the soft blending of Eurasian features that made up her face he decided at a glance she might have passed for a local, perhaps he had seen her somewhere, maybe he'd even walked past her on the street without noticing.

But then hadn't she said she didn't recognize St Mungo's, maybe the fight had damaged her memory?

Harry vaguely remembered one of the store owners in Hogsmeade who he thought might be Chinese. The only other magical with oriental connections he recalled was a graduated upperclassman who was half Japanese who he hazily remembered had been a Hufflepuff prefect during his first year.

Somehow he didn't think he could have mistaken either of them either, and he was fairly confident that the girl was school age so he would have noticed her unless she was home schooled which was possible but not likely.

The Healer was now scrutinising the foreigner, it seemed he'd come to the same conclusion. "We're a magical hospital in London," from her expression it was obvious she didn't know where that was. He let out a huff, "Britain, more specifically England, can you tell us how you got here since you obviously don't seem to be a local?"

She eyed them warily but it didn't seem she was going to elaborate.

"Fine, how about a name, anyone we can contact; siblings, family, a family friend?"

She eyed him again "Xion, and no there isn't."

" _Shi... on."_ Harry sounded the name out slowly; it felt strange on his tongue. The girl's eyes switched to him as Healer Smith let out a frustrated sigh before exiting out into the hallway, waving his hand at Dumbledore as he passed. "Maybe you can get her to talk. I've got to go report that she's awake."

The girl's, Xion's, eyes flittered to focus on Dumbledore whose eyes were twinkling, "I must confess when young Harry and I found you I feared the worst. It does an old man good to see my fears about your recovery laid to rest."

"So you're the ones who found me," her eyes turned to Harry again briefly before she turned her attention back to Dumbledore, "thank you."

"Not at all my dear," the smile he gave her took years off his lined face, "ah but where are my manners? I know your name but I haven't introduced myself, forgive an old man his forgetfulness my memory is not what it once was in my youth, my name is Albus Dumbledore."

And with that the tense mood that had settled over the room disappeared.

* * *

The ensuing round of introductions that Dumbledore's triggered lasted for several minutes before giving way to a steady flow of questions that Xion tried her best to answer.

"Did you see who it was that attacked you?"

She gave an apologetic smile. "Ah, no, it was too dark, I can't remember sorry."

"Oh, I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked," Hermione's face gained an embarrassed blush, lapsing into silence as Fred who'd popped in with his twin an hour ago took over.

"So what were you doing in a Muggle street?"

"Muggle?" she shook her head, "I didn't pick a path, I just sort of just... through myself as far away as I could without a direction when I escaped."

She watched curiously as they all shared a silent wince at that, all having heard about what could happen when people apparated in a panic without a set destination in mind.

"Xion, that's an interesting name, where is it from?" This time it was the female redhead, she thought her name might have been Gin... something.

She shrugged minutely, the pain from her wounds and the bubbling seemed to have died down, "I don't know; I never met my parents, though I'm told I look like my mother."

That much at least was true, she hadn't met either of them and she did resemble Kairi all the time now that her existence was stabilized.

"Oh, sorry..."

Xion waved it off and Ginny gave a relieved sigh.

Inside though Xion was screaming, her injuries were every bit as bad as they had looked something the room full of strangers who she didn't know and who most hadn't even have anything to do with her being brought to the hospital she was in, let alone some kind of position that would necessitate their presence, seemed oblivious too.

Mentally she rolled her eyes at the idiot who had let them in, now she was stuck indulging their curiosity while her hunter's were scouring the universe looking for her. Healing magic and a body capable of regeneration or not a hole through your side was extremely painful and she didn't even have the privacy to do something about it.

On the surface to the others it seemed like she was being very open indulging their curiosity almost unreservedly. In reality she was being very careful with how much she shared and what she spoke about.

She suspected the beared wizard who tugged at something in her memory noticed but the other's hadn't seemed to catch on. Though the black haired one who'd found her seemed to be starting to pick up on it.

Inwardly she snorted, it wasn't like she was being blatantly obvious but it didn't seem like any of the them were getting her drift, but then none of them had caught on to her desire for them to leave either.

She gave an inaudible sigh of relief when she felt it, for better or worse someone was coming and they weren't trying to hide their presence.

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 **An: Originally this was going to be longer but I've split some of it off for the next one since that seems to fit better. To clear things up for the people who have been asking about Xion's 'family.' She's quite literally born from Sora and Kairi's heart's being connected and Sora's memories of her so they're basically her parents. The same basically goes for Namine and Roxas (even if they're existences are a little less convoluted), both are born from the 'union' of Sora and Kairi and their lost hearts so to speak so they're pretty much their children. It's kind of like Sephiroth and his 'mother' so to speak.**


	5. Chapter 5 - Children of Sora

**An: I Changed the location of the Chamber of Repose to be part of the same complex as the Cavern of Remembrance and Garden of Assemblage rather than being located under the Heartless Manufactory.**

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Sound echoed oddly amongst the white hallways, the rush of water flowing in ways contradictory to its nature distorting and muffling the sound of the black cloaked figure's passing.

Beyond the Cavern of Remembrance the Key of Destiny walked the endless halls that sprawled bellow what had once been Ansem the Wise's lab.

Further than even the Garden of Assemblage the last of Organization XIII's great traitors came to a halt.

" _How long has it been...?"_

Drawing back his hood he cast his gaze over his shoulder.

" _Perhaps our reunion will have to wait... Aqua."_

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On the surface it seemed like she was being very open, indulging their curiosity almost unreservedly despite some of the more probing questions but Harry was startled to realize in a moment of clarity and or perhaps paranoia that Xion's wording seemed almost deliberately vague.

Xion was very good at steering convocation away from anything too personal and what information she did impart always refrained from straying too far from the realm of the vague or unverifiable.

The more she talked the less they _really_ learned; she didn't know or remember who or what had attacked her, or she said she didn't. She didn't remember where she came from, only that it was, _'on the continent,'_ and any details about her friends or family or her past were vague.

"So," asked George shaking his head, "your brother and sister are blond but your mother has red hair, how does that work, are you adopted or something?"

"No," she shook her head smiling slightly, "our family's just a bit weird, apparently Roxas is the spitting image of our... grandfather, sorry not many of them are around anymore so we're not too sure about most of our family, I suppose some of that bled into Namine."

There was something about the way she spoke propped up against the bed; the way her eyes drifted while still managing to _look_ at someone as she spoke, like her mind wasn't focusing on the conversation.

' _It's almost like she's waiting for something.'_ Harry realized.

The realization came with a jolt. Furiously his mind catalogued the way her attention seemed to focus on and off, how her eyes didn't always look at the person she was speaking with; drifting into the distance like her attention was somewhere else.

' _It's like she's just going through the motions, doing the actions. No it's like she's focusing somewhere else, like a seeker looking for the snitch while still watching the game.'_

His eyes flashed to Dumbledore, _'He notices it to!'_

As casually as he could his hand slipped into his pocket to curl around his wand.

"Kairi, that's a nice name, does it have a meaning?"

Xion gave a wry smile, "it means sea, though literally it means 'nautical mile' in the old language. My parents were very much children of the sea," her expression turned wistful, "the islands are beautiful."

Following her words there was a moment of silence in which she seemed to drift off like she was remembering some place far away before she returned to the room in the hospital's intensive care wing.

There was a prickling at the back of Harry's neck, something like a faint charge in the air tingling at the edge of his senses. It had begun building part way through Xion's silence just beyond his notice and now it stood on the verge of his senses.

Harry glanced around the room but the others hadn't seemed to notice it yet, Xion though was sitting rigid in her bed. _'Does she know something?'_

The feeling continued to build and Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. The others meanwhile had finally seemed to notice it too and everyone was subtly fingering their wands while looking around wearily as if they expected an attack and Harry's eyes darted around with them.

The moment their eyes turned Xion took the chance, it was now or never. Silently she stiffened as cure magic drained through her body. Someone had gotten her message.

The wizards and witches in the room had taken their attention off her for only a moment, weary instincts rising to the fore as their eyes darted about the room, but it was enough of a distraction that she didn't have to worry about them watching her too closely.

Harry glanced back for just a second; eyes flying open as he took in her suddenly roiling wounds already healed far further than they had been before, before his head jerked to face the opposite side of the room where the building sensation was strongest.

The uncomfortable feeling rose to a fever pitch accompanied by a frantic whine that sounded on the edge of audible hearing made him squeeze his eyes shut before his head jerked to face the sudden explosion of dark shadow rising from the floor blocking the doorway.

Two grey and white figures strode from the swirling pool of darkness followed by a figure cloaked in black who they flanked like bodyguards.

The cloaked figure slowly lifted a hand to pull back the hood of his black coat to reveal a head of golden hair that grew in artful spikes that fell about a beautiful face that shared the features of Xion.

Blue eyes of such an intensity they shone stared out from under black lashes as he cast his eyes over the room.

"Xion..."

"Roxas... it's good to see you." She gave a shuddering cough which was quickly followed by several more until she was locked in the grip of a loud coughing fit as her body arched forward until she was bowed in two over her lap.

She raised her head weakly to gaze up at him, "I'm glad it was you."

Her eyes crinkled, wide smile lighting up her face, and a small trickle of blood snaked its way from her lips.

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 **An: Sorry for the delay, I'll try and get another chapter out around Christmas. Just to clear things up when I say Roxas 'shares' the same features as Xion I don't mean they actually share the same face, they just look similar, ie: same eyes, shared Eurasian facial structures ect.**


	6. Chapter 6 - Event Horizon

**An: It's been a very, very long time since the last chapter, I know.**

 **Something important I'd like to bring to your attention: a user: 'Trafalgar Thunderbird Law'** **has been blatantly stealing this story. They've copied word for word the title, summary, and large chunks of text. The story id is: 12253964.**

 **On to some happier stuff: The** **beginning of this chapter jumps back a bit, before** **picking up where things left off. This should hopefully make remembering where the story left off easier, as well as letting me use some stuff that didn't fit into the last chapter.**

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For Albus Dumbledore watching another in pain and being unable to help was something that almost physically pained him.

The scent of blood was heavy in the air, flooding his nostrils with resurgent memories of battlefields and horrors long repressed. It was like being in Calais again. The scent of blood so heavy in the air he was almost choking on it.

Unlike most things magical, healing was not something he was particularly good at, perhaps if it had been he might have been able to help the girl currently writhing on the bed as the Healers tried to hold her down.

In his youth he was no stranger to pain, and though age and the complacency of peace had dulled the memories of his body the full gravity of the girl's suffering was plain to see, evident from the way she arches off the bed and screams as if she were on fire, jerking and spasming as she thrashed about uncontrollably.

They can't use magic to hold her else they chance aggravating her wounds, or even worse provoking a reaction from the dark magic assailing her. It's putrid; he hasn't felt anything like it since the war against Gellert.

Wounds like that were not meant to be survived. Darkly a part of him wandered whether whatever healing magic was involved might have been included as part of the curse or curses used in order to maximise suffering. Healed enough to move, he had no doubt the pain would be debilitating, unhealed as the wounds were the pain must have been beyond excruciating.

He hasn't felt helplessness for a long, long time. Before this there was always, always, something he could do, no matter how nebulous or how much it couldn't make things right but only slightly better.

As distasteful as it is it's a reminder that even he cannot do everything; that some things are beyond even him.

He remembers first seeing her there bleeding on the ground, the stench of blood and the sight of her crumpled figure had taken him by surprise and old instincts had taken over. Young Harry had done admirably, following his orders to hold the bandages to the worst of the wounds even though his hands were shaking.

It reminds him painfully of the sights of those long done dark years spent fighting the boy who had once been his best friend; of other boys, barely men, desperately trying to stem blood flows the size of small rivers with only conjured bandages and their hands.

This thought echoes in his mind as, unbeknownst, the Key of Destiny hurtles towards Earth.

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For Xion all is fire and crumbling ruin.

Unlike Albus Dumbledore the situation Xion finds herself in is anything but a memory; as Albus' mind lingers on the past Xion focuses on the reality of the present.

Xion is father and mother, son and daughter, sister and brother, like a pool's reflection her eyes carry, mirrored, the reflections of memory and light.

If Dumbledore is the past then Xion is the present, tangible, transient, and fleeting, and like Xion the present is ever changing, a single chaotic second in a story that has been unfolding since creation.

For one built from memory, the essence of the past, she is grounded in the present, the result of an uncertain future and an unstable past.

Xion's existence, or non-existence, whichever it may be, has always been precarious, and thus her eyes zero in on the elderly wizard stepping towards her the moment she register's his presence with her, admittedly blurry, sight.

Warily she tightened her defences in case of a mental probe, she could tell from his aura he was a powerful mage. She didn't think he would try anything but it was always better to be safe than sorry.

His long beard reminded her of a wizard from Sora's memories... Merlin, she thought that might have been his name. The resemblance was only superficial though, and the difference between the two was easily discernible. Instead of the simple robes and pointed hats that the former liked to wear the man in front of her was dressed in a far more elaborate set that lacked a hat, and –she noted, his nose was crooked as if someone had broken it, Merlin's, she remembered, hadn't been.

The memories that weren't hers told her that Merlin had once inhabited Hollow Bastion when it had been called Radiant Garden, and Traverse Town after that, and this world was neither, though she supposed he might have relocated.

Any lingering doubt that she was on a world unfamiliar to Sora or herself, or that the wizard in front of her might still be Merlin though was laid to rest when he introduced himself. Albus Dumbledore was most definitely not someone she recalled meeting, and judging from the powerful light she could sense from him he was the sort of person one of them would have run into if they had come here.

He also, she noted, seemed oblivious to the somewhat tense atmosphere that has settled over the room following her refusal to answer the Healer's questions and his subsequent exit.

How much of that was real and how much was fake she couldn't tell.

And so, as she settled in to answer their questions, she focused her attention on her guests. Now, like always, there was only the present, and she would do her best.

* * *

Harry Potter see's the present and looks to the future. He notices the odd quirks that plague Xion's behaviour and answers and extrapolates into the future, reaching reasonable conclusions.

The Key of Destiny's Arrival only confirms what years of instincts and unconscious ability, as well as years of unstable home life and even more unstable schooling have cultivated in him are telling him.

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 _"Xion..."_

 _Their eyes met, and they held each other's gazes unwavering._

 _"Roxas... it's good to see you," a shuddering cough. "I'm glad it was you."_

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Her eyes crinkled, wide smile lighting up her face, and a small trickle of blood snaked its way from her lips, the words lingering in the air, accompanied by the sound of hacking.

Concerned hands and eyes flutter over her from those nearby, hands reaching out to steady her.

Eyes the same unnatural shade of blue as the injured girl lying crumpled on the bed gaze out from a face that shared the same method to the underlying structures that marked them both as a foreigners, softening as they took in the girl whose eyes he shared.

The black coat the mirror of the one Xion, must have worn –now in tatters, when it was whole; the scraps of fabric that had clung to her figure doing little justice to the image of the garment once whole.

Slowly the fountain of shadows coalesced and collapsed, leaving behind in their wake a heavy tension upon the air.

Fingers relaxed and tightened reflexively on wood as wands were fingered nervously in the silence.

The grey samurai like beings shifted uneasily, and Harry felt a very sudden falling sensation in his stomach as he noticed with rapidly growing nerves the long and very sharp looking swords the two samurai like guards held crossed behind them.

Roxas –the boy, was clearly relieved at the sight of the girl who had, previously, been lying in bed, but was now coughing her guts out; possibly literally given the flecks of blood flying from her mouth and her condition.

Comforted by the fact that for the moment no spells were flying Harry dared to dart a glance her way to make sure she wasn't dying despite the green glowing of healing light pulsing through her body that had started the moment the new figures arrival had started.

His eyes widened momentarily as they took in still obviously gaping wounds that frothed and boiled in the moment before his eyes snapped forward, back to the boy who had so suddenly inserted himself into the room, the strangers eyes flickering over the witches and wizards standing in the room, silently taking in the room he was standing in.

The subtle signs of relief on his face, and the –currently, empty hands were probably the only thing that was stopping this from turning into an all out fight since the moment he'd appeared. As it was things were tense enough; the unconventional method of entry wasn't exactly helping things cool down either.

"Well... this is awkward."

Harry was sure his wasn't the only mouth that was left hanging in incredulity at the response being given to being greeted with a dozen drawn wands.

The boy –Roxas, looked around at them as he spoke, eyebrows rising.

"Xion... it's been a long time. I see you've made some new friends, s _uddenly, I feel like I don't know myself at all._ "

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 **An:** **About the Roxas – Aqua connection: They haven't met canonically, or in this for that matter either. At the moment this is me starting to unravel the wider plot of what is going on in the wider world a far as the story goes. The Aqua connection has more to do about Roxas possessing some of Ventus' memories/heart. It's kind of like how Xemnas had never actually met her either but sought her armour out because he was Terranort's nobody. The scene where he visits her armour in Final Mix was actually what inspired me to add that bit.**


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